


Sharp Dressed Man

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [19]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Fluff, M/M, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-18 01:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16108097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: It's less than two weeks to the wedding and Stretch does not need an intervention.





	Sharp Dressed Man

* * *

Stretch always went to The Beanery on Tuesday’s. It was the only day they sold their special ‘roadster blend’ espresso, roasted in house, and it was too damn good to miss. His status as a favored customer was not enough to ensure a cup if he didn’t get there in time and he’d learned that on Tuesdays, he either obeyed the alarm or he missed out.

On this Tuesday, he’d met with success and been rewarded with a lovely cup of coffee that was almost strong enough to make even him grow hair. He barely had time to bask in the glow of caffeination when a shadow fell across his table. A very short shadow.

He looked up to find Blue and Red were standing there and he had to say, it was just a little disturbing the way their smiles matched on two very similar but so different faces.

Okay, yeah, this was a trap.

“hey guys,” Stretch said slowly, already leaning away but Red was ready for him, grabbing his shoulder in a grip that bordered on painful, which meant if he took a shortcut, Red was coming along for the ride.

Red gave him a toothy grin that made Stretch believe he’d only just been persuaded to leave his most of his weapons at home and there was a set of brass knuckles in his pocket just aching to be used.

Behind the counter, Debbie gave him a sympathetic smile, which meant she’d known about this, the traitor. And his sweet, loving brother was wearing that look on his face that said this was for Stretch’s own good.

Well, fuck, he couldn’t think of a damn thing he’d done lately; he’d been going to see the stupid shrink twice a week, he’d been mostly behaving on Twitter, and he hadn’t even been arrested, why the hell was he getting an intervention now?

“We’re here to take you to your tuxedo fitting,” Blue said firmly.

Oh.

Stretch drained the last of his coffee, savoring the roasty, toasty flavor, and closed his laptop. “okay, let’s go.”

“that’s it?” Red said skeptically. His hand didn’t loosen a fraction. “kinda expecting to get dragged through town, even wore my running shoes.” Little bastard had the nerve to sound disappointed.

“i don’t even like to imagine the kind of payback that would be involved by forcing you to run,” Stretch told him,“seriously, your brother has this wedding plotted down to how many frosting roses are on the second tier of the cake. this may surprise you, but i’m pretty fond of him,” Stretch added dryly. “agreed to marry him and everything. you think i’m gonna ruin this for him by having a titty kitty about the tux? let’s go.”

“All right then, brother,” Blue agreed. It was a little insulting but more amusing that Blue took him by the hand on the way out the door, his starry eyes shining with affection, like Stretch was that easy. Eh, it was okay, they could doubt him all they wanted but he was being honest. There was no fucking way he was about to wreck this for Edge, not over a stupid monkey suit.

Blue’s car was a very nice vintage Volkswagen bug, very well maintained and very much not with the roomy backseat.

“shotgun,” Red called, shortcutting to the car. Stretch didn’t bother, strolling up and shaking his head.

“not a chance, short stuff,” Stretch said. “i don’t fit in the backseat, so unless you’re tying me to the roof, i get passenger side. and you might be willing to try it, but i like to think my bro loves me more than that.”

“I do, but not by much,” Blue said cheerily. He softened it with a smile. “Let’s get this over with, brother.”

Stretch couldn’t agree more.

* * *

Stretch would be the first to say he didn’t care much about clothes.

He wore whatever was comfortable and frankly, it hadn’t made much of a difference in his life. Oh, he liked certain things. Hoodies and track pants, shorts and tank tops; he had a fine collection of touristy t-shirts, both gifts and from thrift shops, each one boasting about the charms of places he’d never been.

Suits, though, when forced to wear them he tended to borrow from Edge. A little too big in the shoulders, a little too short in the ankle but not ridiculously so.

This might change his mind.

The first thing the assistants at the tailor shop had done was give him a glass of champagne without a care for the early hour, not even with the thin disguise of a mimosa.

Blue had accepted one too and Red had waved that away but not the glass of bourbon they’d offered him instead. This went a long way towards proving Stretch’s theory that all clothes fittings were better done drunk. There was a little tray of fruit too, along with scones and other little pastries.

The tailor was a monster he vaguely knew; Bruno was a little brusque and professional, and while Stretch didn’t like strange hands on him and he especially didn’t like them on his pelvis, that was private property, thank you, the champagne eased that discomfort quite a bit.

Once they’d filled his suit with enough pins to give a porcupine a boner, they let him have a look in the mirror.

Stretch turned a little, checking out the full effect. Eh, not bad. Stretch knew what their wedding colors were, kind of. A fall wedding dictated a certain color scheme, or so he’d been told, and it was just as well that it matched nicely with their magic. Classic black tuxedos with the vest and tie a sort of brownish-red. There was probably a name for that color, but Stretch figured he could easily live the rest of his life not knowing it. There was a sort of satiny stripes pattern on it, simple and classy.

He figured he looked pretty good. He was positive Edge would look better.

As if summoned by thinking of him --and how awesome would his life be if he cracked that particular physics problem—the outer door opened a crack and an oh, too familiar voice called in, “How does it look?”

“edge?” Stretch turned toward it but he didn’t come in. “it’s a little late for you to be in the closet, babe, you can just come in and look, if you wanna know.”

“It’s bad luck to see you before the wedding,” four voices recited, three firmly and one, Red’s, with great boredom.

“One never sees the bride dressed before the wedding,” Bruno said sternly; he had a thick New Home accent which made Stretch think he probably didn’t get out into the Human world too often. Not much of a surprise, the larger Monsters tended to stick towards home.

“if i’m the bride, i want a dress, and it better have some fucking lace and shit. No one is allowed to be prettier than me at my wedding!” Stretch told him, more than a little amused.

Red snorted loudly and took a long drink from his second glass of bourbon, “like either of you could wear white.”

“There is no bride,” Edge called through the door, exasperated, “but that doesn’t mean we should cast aside tradition. How does he look?”

“as sweet as the honey bun he is,” Red said lazily. Stretch threw a strawberry at him.

“He looks very handsome,” Blue said happily.

“Handsome, indeed, the very picture of a groom,” Bruno agreed. “May I ask, are the two of you exchanging rings?”

“uhhh…”

“Yes,” Edge called, and it sounded like it was his turn to be amused, “And if he wants to see it before the ceremony, he can ask.”

“i think i’ll wait,” Stretch decided, a little uncertainly, “i like surprises.”

“Whatever you want, love.”

“please, can you drop the goosh for two minutes,” Red groaned, flopping back on the sofa he was sitting on and slinging an arm over his sockets. “you two are enough to make me puke and i like these shoes.”

“I need to get back to work anyway,” Edge said. “I trust the two of you can see him home?”

“I managed not to lose him for all the years he lived with me,” Blue said dryly. He was starting on a second glass of champagne of his own and Stretch hoped Blue remembered that he didn’t drive, “I suspect I can manage now.”

The door closed and Stretch cast a last look at himself in the mirror. Yeah, maybe not the prettiest at the prom, but not bad. Not bad at all.

“okay, honey bun. strip,” Red called. Stretch wasn’t sure where he’d stashed the popcorn he was suddenly eating, but he owed him a fist bump for commitment in setting up that joke.

“out,” Stretch pointed to the door, and both his brother and a leering Red went out the door. Gingerly, he stripped off the suit, managing to avoid most of the pins, and handed it to the tailor before skinning back into his own hoodie and jeans.

“It will be ready by end of the week.” Bruno told him, laying it carefully over his arm.

“i’ll let ‘em know.”

Bruno left with the tuxedo, leaving Stretch in the fitting room alone.

He exhaled shakily, wishing for a cigarette. Less than two weeks to go. It was going to be fine, he told himself. Everything would be fine.

He looked in the mirror, studying his reflection until he was sure his expression was easy and relaxed, then went out to join the height challenged, already anticipating another argument over the passenger seat and hoping he could sneak in a smoke during it. And that was fine.

Everything was going to be fine, he was sure of it.

 

-finis


End file.
